DAY, you have bruised and beaten me, <br />As rain beats down the bright, proud sea, <br />Beaten my body, bruised my soul, <br />Left me nothing lovely or whole— <br />Yet I have wrested a gift from you, <br />Day that dies in dusky blue: <br />For suddenly over the factories <br />I saw a moon in the cloudy seas— <br />A wisp of beauty all alone <br />In a world as hard and gray as stone— <br />Oh who could be bitter and want to die <br />When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-new-moon-7/
